


A Cure For Boredom

by Marcielles_Musings



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic!Stiles, alpha pack, pack-feels, puppy!isaac, sassy-Peter, sick!Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-18
Updated: 2012-11-18
Packaged: 2017-11-18 22:58:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/566204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marcielles_Musings/pseuds/Marcielles_Musings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was summer break and Stiles was bored. Deciding it couldn't hurt, he went to Derek's only to find that the alpha was ill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Cure For Boredom

**Author's Note:**

> This is Part 1 of A Cure for Boredom which was originally posted on my Fanfiction account (http://www.fanfiction.net/u/3177175/Marcielle-s-Musings). I hope you like this fic. Oh, and feel free to check out my tumblr at (http://marciellesmusings.tumblr.com/)

**-Part 1-**

Stiles drove through the forest up to the old Hale house. He knew that he probably shouldn’t be doing this but he was bored. It was the middle of summer vacation! He shouldn’t be bored! He should be out enjoying the summer sun with his friends but nooo, his best friend, Scott, was too busy stalking... Uh, I mean wooing Allison to spend any time with him.

Who had helped the idiot pass his exams? Stiles, and who had stopped his friend from becoming a psycho-killing-werewolf? Stiles. Who should get the award for the bestest friend in the history of the world for all the supernatural shit he puts up with on a day-to-day basis? STILES, but did Scott notice that? Nooooo, Stiles isn’t important enough to spend even a day with even though he does _everything_ for Scott....  
  
So yeah, he was a little pissed at Scott for ditching him again to go and stalk his ex and this is why Stiles found himself, clambering out of his Jeep on this lovely sunny California day and walking up the dirt path to the den of Beacon Hill’s resident Alpha... he had contemplated writing his will before coming here but then decided against it. Derek most likely (hopefully) wouldn’t kill him just for stopping by to say hello.... maybe. He may get grumpy, bare his fangs a bit and shove him into a few walls but that was just normal Alpha posturing so nothing to really worry about.  
  
Oh my god. What did that say about him that he was actually willing to go visit someone who would threaten to disembowel him, shove him into walls, and bash his face into steering wheels?

Probably nothing good about his sanity... but when had he ever chosen to do the sane thing? Being sane was boring, hence this moment of pure insanity.

Walking up to the burnt out building and figuring that it was only polite, Stiles knocked on the slightly charred front door. There was a weird symbol painted there. All sharp edges and jagged points that looked a little bit like a pointier version of that tattoo Stiles had once seen on Derek’s back. Stiles had Googled the symbol after he had first seen it. It was called a triskele or triskelion. So, this similar looking one on the door must be some kind of triskele, then.... Pulling out his cell, Stiles snapped up a quick picture of the symbol, figuring he could look it up and check later.

Hesitantly Stiles opened the front door. No one had answered his knock and it wasn’t like the front door was locked. Derek might not even be here. He could still be staying in that underground subway station he had visited when Erica had had another seizure due to the kanima/ Jackson’s venom or maybe he was just out lurking around town... Stiles wouldn’t say it out loud just in case Derek _was_ here but he was actually a little bit relieved that Derek might not be home to growl at him for showing up uninvited.

“Hello? Anyone home?” asked Stiles as he looked around the foyer of the house, figuring it couldn’t hurt to check.

Stiles sort of expected Derek to come growling down the stairs with glowing red eyes but what Stiles wasn’t prepared for was for a frantic looking Isaac Lahey to come flying down the stairs in front of him and tackle him around the waist in a parody of a bear hug.

“Ooof! Um... Isaac?” Stiles asked hesitantly as he patted the curly haired werewolf on the head comfortingly, “Hey, buddy. It’s good to see you too... Um, do you think you could let up on the bear hug a bit? It’s just ‘cause you’re kinda crushing my ribs a bit with your super-awesome-werewolf-strength.”

Stiles didn’t know what was going on or why Isaac was clinging to him like he was a life raft but he knew it couldn’t be good. Isaac had never been friendly with Stiles. Scott, sure, Isaac loved Scott. But Stiles? Yeah, he and Isaac had never been close. Isaac slowly loosened his grip on Stiles’ ribcage and took a step back.

“Sorry,” the werewolf mumbled while looking down at his sock covered feet, “It’s just...”

“What?” asked Stiles.

The teenage werewolf’s behaviour was starting to really worry him. Was Isaac injured? Was that why he seemed so distressed? Was Derek injured or hell – was Peter injured? What was wrong?

“What is it Isaac?” asked Stiles as he put his hands on the other boy’s shoulders trying to calm the nervous looking werewolf, “What’s wrong?”

Looking first from the hands that Stiles had placed on his shoulders to Stiles’ face, Isaac whimpered, “It’s Derek, he’s sick. We- we don’t know what’s wrong with him and he’s not getting better. He’s not healing. Peter went to find Dr. Deaton to see if he could help and left me to watch over Derek but... I don’t know what I’m doing and nothing I _am_ doing is helping... I don’t want to make him worse...”

“Well shit...” said Stiles, a stunned expression on his face. This was definitely more than he had bargained for when he had decided to come to Derek’s place. But that didn’t mean that he would let his favourite resident Sourwolf die if there was anything he could do to stop it.  

Isaac looked lost and distressed like little kids do when their parent is sick. They have no idea how to help and they feel powerless because most of the time there is nothing the kid can do to make either their mother or their father get better. Stiles knew that feeling of hopelessness quite intimately. His mother had died when he was still a kid from cancer so he definitely knew how Isaac must be feeling.

Pulling himself together, Stiles focused his thoughts. He could do this. He could do something useful for Derek’s pack. He could be strong for Isaac and maybe help Derek. But first he needed to get Isaac to calm down. The werewolf’s anxiety and confusion wouldn’t help anyone in this situation.

“Alright,” said Stiles with a nod of his head which startled Isaac out of his wallowing to stare at Stiles with wide eyes, “Isaac, I need you to take me to Derek. Maybe I’ll be able to see what’s wrong with him and if not I’ll at least be able to make out a list of symptoms for Dr. Deaton when he gets here with Peter.”

Isaac nodded at Stiles and then proceeded to grab Stiles’ wrist and start tugging him up the charred stairs. Stiles couldn’t believe he had pulled a ‘take me to your leader’ on Isaac, but at least the werewolf’s eyes had lost their haunted expression. He had given Isaac a purpose, something else to focus on instead of Derek’s apparently deteriorating health.

At the top of the stairs, Isaac tugged him to the right, down a corridor and into the first room on the right. The room was sparse with only worn looking mattress on the floor in the centre of the room and a black duffle bag full of clothes next to a trunk full of what looked like books in the far corner of the room. Stiles wasn’t surprised by the lack of furniture. Derek had only come back to Beacon Hill’s a few months ago but in that time the older man had moved multiple times and it wasn’t like he could bring furniture with him in his car.

Stiles may not be a werewolf but even _he_ could smell the stale smell of sweat and sickness in the room. There was a glass of water and a chipped bowl filled with wet rags next to the mattress on the floor. Isaac had obviously been trying to cool Derek down.

Looking at Derek lying in the middle of the mattress there was only two words to describe how he looked; like shit. The older man was pale and clammy with dark bruises under each eye, probably from a mix of a lack of sleep and whatever was making the Alpha sick. He looked like he had the day he’d been shot by that bitch, Kate Argent, with the wolfsbane bullet. Summary: There was something seriously wrong with Derek.

Stiles was shaken from his observation by a wine that sounded more animal than human. It had come from Isaac who had moved from his place beside Stiles to curl up beside his sick Alpha.

If Derek wasn’t currently looking like he was on the verge of death, Stiles would have pulled out is phone and taken a quick photo of the adorable picture that the two werewolves made. Instead, Stiles strode forward to sit beside the mattress, facing Derek’s curled up form and pulled one of the damp rags out of the bowl of water and began gently wiping down Derek’s clammy forehead.

Hopefully Derek wouldn’t bite his hand off for doing this...

Derek’s eyes fluttered open with a groan at the touch of the cool cloth to his forhead. Isaac whimpered at Derek’s groan and watched Stiles’ every movement from his place curled up beside Derek and burrowed his head further into the Alpha’s shoulder. Derek’s eyes were also blearily following the movement of Stiles’ hand as he continued to wipe down Derek’s face. There was no apprehension in the stare only mild curiosity and a heavy look of relief. The cool cloth must be helping then.

“-tiles?” whispered Derek in confusion as his eyes finally connected with Stiles’ face. The Alpha must have thought it was Isaac washing his face.

“Hey Derek,” answered Stiles with what he hoped was a comforting smile down at the sick Alpha as he removed the now warm and sweaty rag from Derek’s forehead to rinse it out with the cool water in the bowl he had moved to his lap.

Derek gave a pained groan at the removal of the cloth, prompting Isaac to wine pitifully again in what Stiles was beginning to think was sympathy and burrow even further into Derek’s side.

‘This isn’t good,’ thought Stiles as he replaced the cool cloth on Derek’s forehead. Stiles was seriously beginning to worry that Derek was suffering from aconite poisoning again. A more severe case than the gunshot wound, but Derek was exhibiting all of the same symptoms except for the puking of black blood.

“Hey, Isaac?” Stiles whispered to the werewolf burrowed into Derek’s other side.

Isaac lifted his face from Derek’s shoulder and looked up at Stiles, not actually giving Stiles an answer but showing that he was listening at least.

“Has Derek been throwing up black blood?” asked Stiles, “It would look like what happened to Gerard when he tried to become a werewolf but probably less violent,” he added for clarification.

Isaac shivered subtly at the mention of Gerard before nodding, “Yeah, he was last night and earlier this morning but Peter and I both checked him for wounds and he hasn’t eaten anything strange recently...”

“Hhmm,”

Stiles wasn’t going to give away any of his thoughts to Isaac, he didn’t want to distress the other boy any more than he already was. But Stiles’ thoughts were buzzing around his brain like bees from flower to flower, trying to figure out what was wrong with Derek and how he could help him get better. From the evidence, Stiles was inclined to say that Derek had been poisoned again somehow. By whom, was another question entirely but Stiles would worry about _who_ had poisoned Derek once the Alpha was better. Judging by the rapid degeneration of Derek’s health they would need to find an antidote, and fast, or Derek probably wouldn’t make it through the night.

Coaming his fingers gently through Derek’s sweat-soaked hair comfortingly as the sick Alpha drifted in and out of consciousness, Stiles pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and called Scott. He didn’t care if his friend was busy or not, he needed him to answer his friggen’ phone and pick up some things from his house for him. After a couple of rings, Scott finally picked up.

“Hey Stiles, What’s up?” sounded Scott’s voice through the speakers on his cell, “I’m a little busy at the moment. Is it important?”

Derek gave a small growl in his sleep at the sound of Scott’s voice and Isaac’s head popped up from Derek’s shoulder to stare at Stiles. If Isaac was a puppy, his ears would have been perked up and his head tilted to the side in the way Stiles had seen his neighbour’s beagle puppy do when confused. Stiles gave a small snort at the mental image of an Isaac with golden retriever puppy ears and tail. It was a very cute picture, but not exactly pertinent so Stiles ignored the younger werewolf’s stare and continued to run his fingers through Derek’s hair in a soothing manner as he answered Scott.

“Yeah, Scott, it’s me. Yes, it _is_ important. I really don’t care what you’re doing at the moment unless you’re in mortal peril, in which case I curse your timing. But if you’re _not_ dying I need you to grab me some stuff from my place and bring it to Derek’s.”

Scott was silent for a few seconds before answering, “Stiles,” his friend said warily, “What are you doing with Derek?”

Stiles huffed. His friend was an idiot sometimes. Didn’t he understand the simple concept of urgency? “Scott, I really don’t have time for your questions at the moment, ok? So can you do this for me or not? Because if you can’t I’ll call someone else to do it for me instead.”

When Scott didn’t reply immediately, Stiles began to get seriously angry. He did everything for Scott. If Scott called him and said it was an emergency or something was urgent, he dropped everything he was doing to go see what he could do to help, but the second he asked Scott to return the favour, his friend was too busy.

“Scott,” growled Stiles, his anger coming across in his tone. He was fed up with Scott.

Isaac’s eyes widened as he listened in. He was probably surprised that Stiles ever got angry at Scott. Derek’s pack must think his relationship with his friend was all sunshine and daisies. Ha, yeah right. Stiles loved Scott (in a completely platonic heterosexual bro-love kinda-way) but ever since the beginning of all of this werewolf business, Scott had slowly been forgetting that Stiles even existed and possibly had his own problems to deal with. I know,  rare right, that he might want to deal with his own shit instead of constantly having to fix Scott’s problems... So, Scott might think that their friendship was all sunshine and daisies he is an idiot so his opinion doesn’t count.

“Scott,” Stiles repeated with another growl, “Obviously you’re not dying and Allison isn’t in mortal peril or you wouldn’t have even _picked up the phone_ , which is becoming common place by the way. So, if you don’t do just this _little_ thing for me, after _everything_ I’ve done for you, the next time you need _my_ help I’m gonna say _Fuck You_.”

Stiles could practically hear his friend’s eyes widen. He could _see_ Isaac’s widen at that comment. Scott was quicker to reply this time, confusion evident in his tone.

“Um, yeah, sure. I can get it for you... Um, what exactly did you need me to grab from your place?”

Stiles sighed. He had hoped Scott would come through for him.

“Ok, in my closet, in my room, behind by board games on the top shelf is a black converse box. I need you to bring that box to me as fast as you can, ok? You hear me, Scott? As fast as you can. Got it?” asked Stiles.

“Yeah... um yeah, I got it. Will you at least tell me what it’s for? Has something happened?” asked Scott in reply.

“Not right now. I’ll tell you once you get here,” sighed Stiles, “but I need you to hurry Scott. I’m serious.”

“Yeah, I got it. You’re serious,” said Scott.

Stiles could hear movement on the other side of the phone indicating that Scott was already running to his house from wherever he was – probably Allison’s house.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes and then I expect a damn good explanation as to why you’re suddenly all buddy-buddy with _Derek Hale_ of all people,” growled out Scott.

“Just get me the box,” snapped Stiles before hanging up.

Scott sure knew how to be an asshole. With a frustrated sigh, Stiles placed his phone on the floor and looked up to meet both Isaac’s and Derek’s wide eyes. Derek’s, of course, were more cloudy than Isaac’s but shocked all the same.

Deciding to ignore both werewolves’ shocked looks, he started to explain why he had called Scott in the first place and told him to fetch the converse box for him.

“I think I have something that will help make you better,” Stiles directed at Derek.

Stiles watched as both Derek and Isaac lost their wide-eyed look and Derek nodded before closing his eyes again, heading back into a sickness induced slumber.

Isaac was still staring at Stiles, even after Derek had fallen back to sleep so Stiles figured it couldn’t hurt to reassure the younger werewolf.

“He will be fine,” Stiles whispered across to Isaac, trying not to wake Derek, “especially if the stuff I asked Scott to bring, works the way it’s supposed to.”

Isaac nodded his head slightly before lying it down, once again on Derek’s shoulder. It must be a werewolf thing because Stiles had never seen anyone beside Scott act this cuddly, but Scott was more of the exception rather than the rule.

“Something like this happened to Derek a few months ago. It was before you were turned and while Derek was still a beta. He was shot in the arm with a wolfsbane laced bullet and he got really sick, like he is now. I think he may have been poisoned again,” elaborated Stiles.

“But Peter and I both checked him for wounds. We didn’t find any,” replied Isaac.

“That’s why I think he may have been unknowingly injected with the poison. It’s probably some form of wolfsbane or perhaps mountain ash... and with a werewolf’s healing ability any small puncture wound would be healed in a matter of seconds. To you it would just feel like a mosquito bit you when in reality you’ve been shot with a werewolf-poison-dart. You would barely feel it and it probably wouldn’t be until much later that you would start feeling the effects of the poison, depending on where it was injected.”

Isaac’s eyes widened at the implications of what Stiles was suggesting; Derek wasn’t just sick, someone was possibly trying to kill him. “Is that what you think happened? Someone purposefully poisoned Derek?”

“I don’t know,” sighed Stiles, “For all I know, he could be having an allergic reaction to some funky mushrooms but it _looks_ like aconite poisoning and from what you’ve described to me of his symptoms it _sounds_ like aconite poisoning. Plus it really would be typical of Derek’s shitty luck that yet _again_ someone is trying to kill him and using poisoned darts wouldn’t leave any mark so.... um yeah...”

Isaac nodded again while sitting up cross-legged, “Ok, that makes sense. So do you think it was hunters or the Alpha Pack?”

“Hunt- wait, what did you just say?” Stiles asked incredulously, “What’s this about an _Alpha Pack_? As in a pack made up _purely_ of _Alphas_?!”

Gods... Not even a few weeks out of their last life and death situation and by the sounds of it they were already in the middle of another one. And _yet again_ Derek had hidden the fact from him and Scott until it was too late. And now Derek was injured, _again...._ Oh my god, when would Derek learn that he could trust them?!

Ok, wait, let’s rephrase that. He could trust _Stiles_. Scott didn’t trust Derek and always thought the worst of the older man in every single situation they’d been in thus far. Seriously, sometimes Scott acted a little bit too much like Harry Potter; blaming everything on Draco Malfoy. _Malfoy’s behind this, I just know it! It was Malfoy! Malfoy’s such a git..._ _and_ he was getting off topic.

But while Stiles might be Scott’s best friend and partner in crime, he would never turn any of Derek’s pack away (ok maybe Peter – but he was a creeper. It must be a genetic trait of the Hale family...) if any of them needed help or were in serious danger and especially not if one of them was _dying_. He wouldn’t betray them either. Sure he may just be the punny human but he could still help them somehow. He would help them.

But seriously, when would Derek learn that he couldn’t take threats on by himself. You would think he would have learned this small fact by now what with Crazy-Peter (yes that deserved the capitals) the Argents and the kanima/Jackson situations. He was going to get himself and his pack killed if he didn’t stop hiding vital information from everyone. He might already be dying and _yet again_ it was up to Stiles to save the day.

Isaac’s eyes were bugged-out of his head and he was staring at Stiles like he had grown a second head.

“What?” snapped Stiles. He couldn’t help it; he was a little pissed at the moment.

“You do realise you said that out loud don’t you?”

And fuck, he had. That would explain the _what-the-fuck-kind-of-creature-are-you_ look he was getting from Isaac.

Stiles sighed and rubbed a hand down his face, “Ok, please backtrack and explain this ‘Alpha Pack’ to me.”

“There’s not much to explain,” said Isaac as he fidgeted on the mattress next to Derek, “It’s a pack of alphas. Peter said it’s why Derek was in such a rush to turn Erica, Boyd and I; so he could have more power and numbers to support him. We don’t know if they are here to hurt the pack or just observe how Derek runs things...”

“So pretty much, you know nothing. Now do you think this is because of Derek’s typical don’t-share-until-it’s-too-late policy or because he actually doesn’t know why they’re here and he was just being cautious and waiting until they made a move?”

“I don’t think he knows why they’re here... and that’s why he hasn’t told me anything...” mumbled Isaac.

Stiles huffed in frustration. Derek was so much like Scott sometimes it was ridiculous. They were both obtuse potatoes who didn’t share information and always thought that they knew best. That’s probably why they butted heads as often as they did. They were too alike but also understandably different. Stiles wondered if Derek would have been a bit more like Scott if his family hadn’t all been killed.

Suddenly Isaac’s perked up and tilted his head towards to doorway, “I hear someone. You stay here with Derek, I’ll go see who it is. Peter took the Camero so hopefully it’s Scott...”

Stiles knew what Isaac wasn’t saying; Stay here with my alpha. I’m trying to be brave. I’ll see who it is since I’ll at least have a chance at defending myself if it isn’t Scott. Stay safe. Protect my alpha. And although Stiles understood, that didn’t mean he had to like it. He didn’t like waiting here with a sick Derek while Isaac went outside to face whoever was approaching. Hopefully it was Scott.

“Isaac,” said Stiles before Isaac could make his way fully out the door, “If it isn’t Scott, howl and then get out of there. I’ll get Derek to safety. If it is Scott, tell him he’s late,” finished Stiles with a smirk.

Isaac gave a miniscule smile (Stiles wouldn’t have seen it if he wasn’t looking for it) and then disappeared out the door, leaving Stiles with an unconscious Derek.

“Come on big guy, either which way, you have to wake up, ok?” said Stiles as he tried to rouse Derek with a nudge to his shoulder. With no response evident, Stiles sat down on the mattress next to Derek and nudged his shoulder again, “Please don’t kill me for this. I’m sorry, but you really have to wake up. You can catch up on your beauty rest later, ok?”

“Nnnnggg,” groaned Derek as he blearily opened his eyes and shit, he looked really pale and the bruises under his eyes looked even more pronounced.

“Hey, big guy, you really need to get up. Isaac said he heard someone coming. Hopefully it’s Scott. If it isn’t though I’m gonna need to get you out of here so you really need to at least sit up,” said Stiles as he grabbed Derek’s shoulders and hauled him up into a sitting position, “Holy Hell, you weigh a ton. No, don’t growl at me. Believe it or not I’m actually trying to _help you_ so the least you could do is not snap at me. I’m sorry I had to wake you but someone is here”

And then Derek was sitting – well sort of – He was more of slumped against Stiles’ shoulder, using it as a brace to keep himself upright with his head resting against the side of Stiles’ head. Stiles could see the cold sweat break out on Derek’s forehead from the effort it had taken to remain upright. Derek also looked slightly green and Stiles just hoped he wouldn’t get puked on. Black werewolf puke probably stained like a bitch and he really liked this shirt, thank you very much.

“Hey, you ok?” whispered Stiles as he put the back of his hand up to Derek’s forehead. Derek groaned at the contact and shit, Derek was burning up.

“You’re gonna be fine,” reassured Stiles.

He really hoped Derek wouldn’t pick up on some weird thing with his stupid werewolf powers which told him Stiles was lying. Because he wasn’t lying, Derek was going to be just fine. He wouldn’t die like this. Stiles wouldn’t let it happen.

‘Please let it be Scott. Please let it be Scott. Please let Scott have the right box. Fuck I should have given him better directions. He probably got distracted by Allison’s nail follicles or something. Please don’t die on me Derek. There has been enough death in this town recently,’ thought Stiles as he grabbed the damp cloth from the bowl on the floor with one hand and placed it on Derek’s forehead while his other hand began running through Derek’s hair and scratching lightly at his scalp.

“Gggnnnhhh” groaned Derek.

Hopefully it was a happy groan not an I’m-in-pain-stop-fucking-touching-me-Stiles groan. Stiles thought it was a happy groan if the way Derek began weakly pushing his head further against Stiles hand was any indication.

And suddenly there was the thunder of stampeding feet running up the stairs. Stiles’ hands stilled in their movement and Stiles was immediately alert. What if the someone Isaac had heard was one of the Alphas from the Alpha pack? What if  they had hurt Isaac and were coming for Derek? What if-

But his worry was for naught as Isaac and Scott ran into the room. Scott was carrying the black converse box Stiles had asked for – Stiles could kiss him – he didn’t because that would be weird and way too much like incest for his tastes.

“Oh, thank god...” sighed Stiles “I was worried that it was the Alpha pack... Now gimmie that box.”

Scott was staring at Stiles and made no motions to pass over the box.

“Scott, pass over the box,” repeated Stiles, frustration entering his tone as Scott continued to stare at him instead of passing over the shoe box.

When Scott made no motions to pass over the box, Stiles gestured to Isaac who had been standing to the side, watching the proceedings, to grab the box.

“Hey!” yelled Scott as he looked at Isaac in betrayal as the other boy snatched the shoebox out of his hands but Isaac just ignored Scott in favour of bringing Stiles his requested box.

“Thanks,” Stiles nodded to Isaac as he pulled of the lid and began pulling out jars and bottles from inside the box.

Scott was still staring at them from the doorway but he hadn’t said anything yet so Stiles was of the opinion that ignoring Scott for the time being would be a good idea. He could deal with Scott’s issues with him helping Derek once Derek wasn’t – you know – _dying_.

“What is all this?” asked Isaac as he sat down next to Stiles on the mattress. Derek was still slumped on Stiles other side and was blearily watching as Stiles pulled out jar after jar from the shoebox in his lap.

“My werewolf-emergency-medicine-kit,” answered Stiles as he pulled out the last of the small bottles.

At the bottom of the shoebox was a small spiral notebook which Stiles pulled out and began flicking through, “After all that’s happened in the past few months I thought it would be a good idea to stock up on pretty much every type of wolfsbane and other supernatural flowers and herbs just in case someone got poisoned or we needed to stop some other supernatural baddie so I went to Deaton and asked him to help me set up this kit.”

“The notebook lists what is in each jar or bottle and the properties of each herb, flower, powder, oil or tincture. Basically it’s my how to guide on stoping or saving the supernatural with plant matter. I have another notebook at home which is slowly becoming my very own bestiary – in English this time. I’m filling it with info on every supernatural entity I meet or hear about so that if we ever face one again, then I’ll have a record of how to stop them or help them depending on the situation. Pretty smart huh?”

“Yeah, it’s a great idea actually. We don’t have any of the herbs and stuff on hand but we have Peter’s laptop for info and stuff so it’s good that you have all of this,” said Isaac as he gestured to the bottles and jars at Stiles’ feet, “Once this is all over, would you mind teaching me about the all the herbs and stuff?”

“Sure,” answered Stiles with a small grin. He was happy to teach Isaac about this stuff, it might keep Derek and his pack out of a few more life-or-death situations, since Derek was often too stubborn to ask for help.

“Is anyone going to explain what’s going on?! Because all I see is Derek molesting Stiles and Stiles is ignoring me and even Isaac has turned against me! SO WHAT’S GOING ON?!” shouted Scott.

Stiles sighed in exasperation and then stage whispered to Isaac, “I think he’s suffering from abandonment issues. I leave him alone for a few minutes and see what happens,” as he gestured to Scott.

Scott huffed in annoyance at that comment but it got an amused grin out of Isaac and even a small huff of what might have been laughter out of Derek onto his neck – bit it was probably just him breathing.

Stiles nudged Isaac in the ribs while he continued to flip through his notebook, hoping to find a herb, which when used as a poison, produced the symptoms described. Thankfully Isaac got the message and began to explain to Scott what was going on.

“We think Derek’s been poisoned. Peter went to get Dr. Deaton and Stiles showed up to help.”

Stiles looked up from the notebook and over at Isaac with a ‘ _really? Are you serious?_ ’look, “That was the worst explanation I’ve ever heard.”

Isaac shrugged, “I told him what’s happened didn’t I?”

Stiles scoffed, “Oh my god, you must be taking lessons from silent and broody over here in sharing information,” said Stiles with a jab of his thumb at Derek who now looked very close to falling asleep on Stiles’ shoulder, “You both succeeded in telling Scott exactly what has happened without telling him practically anything at all.”

Isaac just shrugged, looking completely unrepentant. Sometimes Stiles’ didn’t know why he bothered with these werewolves of his, they were determined to frustrate him until he died.

“Werewolves and your communication issues – I swear,” grumbled Stiles as he turned his attention back to the notebook. Unfortunately, he hadn’t found what he was looking for yet and Derek was still burning up against his left side.

“Isaac, can you please fill this up with fresh water?” Stiles asked as he grabbed the bowl filled with water and wet rags from the floor.

“Ok,” Isaac grabbed the bowl and rushed out of the room past Scott.

 “Oh! And can you grab me another clean bowl and a bottle of water, too!” Stiles shouted, knowing the other werewolf would hear him.

“Isaac says ‘Sure, is there anything else you needed?’” said Scott as he shuffled further into the room and sat across from Stiles and Derek.

“Well if you guys somehow have a kettle or some way to boil water that would be appreciated. Oh, and cucumbers if you have them,” said Stiles, counting on Isaac being able to still hear him from downstairs, as he closed the notebook and went about slowly shifting Derek off of his shoulder and back into a horizontal position.

Derek groaned (not a happy groan this time) as Stiles manoeuvred him off his shoulder but didn’t open his eyes.

“Shit,” cursed Stiles. Derek was obviously getting worse. His fever felt worse, he was sweaty and clammy, and he hadn’t even protested at being manhandled.

“Isaac, can you hurry up with that water please?!” yelled Stiles.

A crash was heard downstairs and then there was the sound of a stampede of feet coming up the charred staircase.

“Here, here,” breathed out Isaac as he ran into the room and pushed two bowls of fresh water into Stile’s hands.

There was two more bottles of water, a green hand towel, a small gas burner and a pot still in Isaac’s arms.

“We don’t have cucumbers but I can run to the store to grab them. Do you want me to go get them?,” rushed Isaac as he placed his armful carefully on the floor.

“No, that’s ok. We’ll just make do. This stuff is great, thank you.  Can you set up the burner and get some water boiling in the pot?” asked Stiles.

Isaac nodded and Stiles went about grabbing the herbs he needed. It wasn’t just magical plants he kept in this box. He also kept normal, mundane herbs since Deaton had told him that normal medicine wouldn’t work on werewolves but traditional herbal remedies would.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Scott asked as he fidgeted on the floor.

Stiles looked up and tossed a jar filled with sage at his friend. Scott caught it and looked at it with a frown, “What’s this? Will this cure Derek?”

“I wish,” scoffed Stiles as he unscrewed another jar (this one filled with rosemary) and began pulling the leaves off of their twig and rolling them around in his fingers, “No, that’s sage. It will hopefully help reduce Derek’s fever. Put it three leaves in the pot once Isaac’s done getting the water to boil.”

“Once it’s in there could one of you go find a mug to put it in?” Stiles asked.

“The water’s boiling. I can go find one now,” answered Isaac before he slipped out of the room.

“Ok, Scott dump the sage leaves in there now and let it boil for a bit,” said Stiles with a glance over at Scott who was doing as directed, “Thanks.”

Returning back to his own work, Stiles now had a good half of a handful of rosemary leaves in his hand. Picking up one of the bowls full of fresh water he dumped the crushed leaves in and began stirring with his finger. The water soon took on a slightly green tint and the crisp smell of rosemary filled the room.

“What’s that?” Scott asked as he pointed to the bowl in Stiles’ hands.

“It’s a rosemary cooling wash. It will also help reduce the fever. Normal medicine doesn’t work on werewolves but traditional herbal remedies will, so the sage tea and the rosemary cooling wash will help reduce the fever and allow Derek’s body to stop wasting energy on fighting the fever and instead will be able to fight the poison more effectively. It should give us more time to find out what the poison is and how to cure him,” answered Stiles as he dunked one of the clean rags that Isaac had brought  up with him into the rosemary wash and began wiping the sweat off of Derek’s face.

“Nnnnng,” groaned Derek as he rolled further into the touch of the cool cloth.

“Sshhh,” hushed Stiles as he re-wet the cloth with the rosemary infused water and placed in back on Derek’s fever-flushed forehead, “We’re going to get you better, ok? You’ll be up doing your normal Alpha routine in no time.”

Derek just wriggled closer to Stiles’ side in response.  His eyes weren’t open and it was unlikely that Derek was fully conscious so Stiles wouldn’t hold his actions against him. He might, later, once Derek wasn’t on the brink of death.

It was then that Isaac walked back into the room and passed Stiles the requested mug before he went to sit beside Scott who was leaning against the wall across from Stiles. The mug was old and slightly chipped but it would serve its purpose.

“Thanks, Isaac.”

Stiles got up from the mattress and walked over to the burner. Turning the gas off with a flick of his wrist, Stiles grasped the handle of the pot and carefully poured the tea into the mug, making sure no sage leaves fell in. Placing the pot back on the small gas burner, Stiles walked back over to the mattress and sat down on the edge, being extra careful not to spill the scalding hot tea over either himself or Derek.

“Scott? Isaac? Can you guys help me sit him up? We need to get him to drink this.”

Isaac immediately got up and walked over to help but Scott was more hesitant.

“Come on, Scott,” said Stiles as he gestured to Scott, “You can have you existential crisis about helping Derek later, ok? Ok, good. Now get your little werewolf ass over here and help.”

With Isaac and Scott holding Derek up, Stiles quickly grabbed Derek’s duffel off the floor and the only pillow in the room and made a small mound on top of the mattress and against the wall.

“That should keep him at least partially upright,” nodded Stiles, “Ok guys, you can lean him back against those now.”

Once Derek was propped up against the wall with the pillow and the duffle acting as a cushion, Stiles was faced with the problem of how to actually get Derek to _drink_ the tea since he was still unconscious.

Scooting forward on the mattress toward Derek, Stiles gently grabbed Derek’s jaw with one hand and slowly held the cup up to Derek’s mouth.

But Stiles was prevented from actually giving Derek the tea when Scott shouted “Wait!” and grabbed his wrist of the hand holding the mug in a bruising grip.

“What, Scott?” Stiles sighed exasperatedly.

“Do you really think sticking your hand in an Alpha werewolf’s mouth is a good idea? I mean even if it is Derek, he’s not exactly acting like himself at the moment. He could bite you.”

“He won’t bite me and even if he did then I guess I would be like you guys,” sighed Stiles, “Now let go of my wrist so I can give him the friggen’ tea. I won’t have him dying from fever because _you_ were too afraid to let me near the Big-Bad-Wolf. I promise not to let him eat me Scott. Feel better now?”

“No,” grumbled Scott as he let go of Stiles wrist.

Stiles and Isaac both gave a huff at Scott’s petulant response. Scott was too cute some times...

Moving the mug back to Derek’s lips, Stiles used his other hand to slowly work Derek’s jaw open and poured in a small mouthful. Closing Derek’s mouth, Stiles passed the mug to Isaac to hold as he began massaging Derek’s throat to help the liquid go down. Stiles reached for the mug and repeated this process until the mug full of sage tea was completely gone.

“There! See, no bites!” cheered Stiles before falling serious once more, “The tea and the rosemary cooling wash should lower the fever enough to let Derek’s body put more energy into fighting the poison. Hopefully Dr. Deaton will get here soo-”

“He’s here!” shouted Isaac as he jumped up from the mattress and bolted out the bedroom door.

Stiles looked at Scott for confirmation with a raised eyebrow.

“I hear the Camero and two heartbeats coming closer, so...” replied Scott with a shrug.

“Fucking werewolves and their stupid super hearing and non-explaining tendencies,” grumbled Stiles under his breath knowing full well that both Scott and Isaac and possibly Peter would hear him.

Scott let out a bark of laughter and Derek twitched slightly. Dr. Deaton was here. Derek would be fine... he hoped.


End file.
